Page 124 of Psycho Pack
His face flushes red. "Why does everyone always ask that?" he mutters.
"Because it's a logical assumption," I say dryly. Some of the heaviness in my chest eases as we slip into our usual comforting bickering. "Of course your name is Colt. It fits."
"It's a good name for a soldier," Ivy agrees.
"Or a stubborn horse," I add.
He snorts a laugh, walking over to join us, his boots heavy on the woven carpet. "Yeah, well, Hamsa fits you, too. Fancy and pretentious." He smirks. "Kinda disappointed it isn't really Eggbert, though. I was almost getting attached to that name."
"What?" I stare at him. "Why would you think that?"
He shrugs those massive shoulders. "I don't know, bro, someone called you that once and it stuck. Figured it was why you're so bird themed. Gotta admit it was tough to get past it. Do you know how hard it is to come when you think someone's name is Eggbert?"
Oh, for fuck's sake.
Must have been Valek.
"I cannot believe you've been thinking my name was—" I cut myself off, shaking my head. "No, actually, I can absolutely believe that."
Beside me, Ivy dissolves into giggles. The sound is infectious, and soon I'm laughing too. Really laughing, for the second time today. More than I have in years.
"What?" Whiskey demands. "I'm serious!"
"You're an idiot," I tell him affectionately.
The warmth spreading through me takes me by surprise.
When was the last time I felt this… light?
This unguarded?
Ivy's giggles fade into a contented hum as she leans against my shoulder. Her small frame fits perfectly against mine, like she was made to be there. The thought sends an unexpected pang through me.
I don't deserve this gentle comfort.
Don't deserve either of them.
But I'm too selfish to push them away.
"Maybe," Whiskey admits with that insufferable grin. "But I'myouridiot now. No take-backs,Your Highness."
"Is that a threat or a promise?" I ask.
"Both." He drops down beside us, his bulk making the floor creak beneath the woven carpet. His honey-brown eyes dance with something that looks dangerously like love. He can'tloveme, no matter what he says. He just can't. But for a moment, I let myself believe he does. "Someone's gotta keep your royal ass humble."
"I assure you, that won't be necessary. I have enough humility to drown in right now."
"Bullshit," Whiskey says. "You're the smuggest bastard I've ever met. And I've metme."
Ivy's shoulders shake with silent laughter. "He's not wrong."
"Betrayed by my own omega," I mutter, but there's no heat in it. My chest aches at how... normal this feels. Sitting on the floor of my old chambers, surrounded by the ghosts of my past, yet somehow feeling more present than I have in years.
"Get used to it, Doc." Whiskey's knee bumps mine. The casual contact sends electricity through me that I try desperately to ignore. "We're gonna give you so much shit about being a secret prince. Forever."
"Oh, joy." But I can't quite keep the smile from my voice.
Ivy's small hand finds mine again, her fingers tangling with mine. The simple touch grounds me, keeps me from spiraling back into the darkness that's been threatening to swallow me since we arrived.